


The Love of God

by deeplyshallow



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: But then she deleted her name from it on one of her biweekly deleting sprees, Dubious Consent, F/M, God Complex, Gun Violence, Implied homophobia, Violence, Written with Chxrryb0mb, gun death, jd sux, referenced homophobia, scene recreation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:55:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27184847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deeplyshallow/pseuds/deeplyshallow
Summary: “How do you come up with this stuff?”“It’s easy when you’re God,” He says with a wry smile. Veronica doesn’t think he’s joking.Kurt and Ram death scene, Veronica’s POV
Relationships: Jason "J. D." Dean/Veronica Sawyer
Comments: 7
Kudos: 23





	The Love of God

**Author's Note:**

> i had to create this google doc for deeplyshallow because she's elderly. luckily, I am gen z and am immensely cooler than her (love you, friend)
> 
> This is _not _part of bad medicine as I understand I did something similar but there are no connections.__
> 
> TW for homophobia. Gross shit but we gotta include it.

The alarm blares from underneath her pillow, ringing in her ears. When she rolls over and cracks her eyes open it’s still dark outside. Her sleep had been far from peaceful, she spent the majority of her night tossing and turning before clocking out at an unholy hour. Usually, she’d think about punching her alarm clock out and pulling the pillow over her face to drown out the world for another ten minutes, but today she’s wide awake, and already putting together her assemble. 

The clothing had been carefully selected yesterday, along with the homosexual artifacts and the carefully forged note. The kick she gets out of this is stronger than she wants to admit. It isn’t like she’s doing anything _bad_ \-- it’s just something stupid to blow some dumbasses off of her trail. 

The road to peace is a lot meaner than she had originally planned it to be, even if Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber have been asking for it for a long while. Pulling a comb through her hair, Veronica looks over herself in the mirror a final time, forcing a smile.

The worst part of this is what she’ll have to pretend, though she supposes the result is far more rewarding than having to pretend to want to give a blowjob to two nimrods. The resulting hilarity that she will get from this is worth all the risk she will have to put in beforehand.

And, despite what she likes to admit, she gets a thrill knowing that this time she will be the one in control of their encounter. This time she will win. God, she can’t wait to see the look on their stupid faces when they see her with a gun. It will be better even than the day in the caf, when Ram looked like he wet himself in horror. They barely managed to live it down last time. This time they won’t. She’ll make sure of it.

This isn’t even only justice for her, though her anger definitely fuels it. Kurt and Ram have been on their pedestals for far too long, messed with far too many people. Veronica is only doing what’s right.

And in a town like Sherwood, who knows how many decades it will take to shake off the label of being gay. A town so obsessed with old upholdings that they refuse to progress forward.

Their reign of terror is over, and all because of them. Their way is the only way Westerberg can function, and Veronica can’t ignore that.

The glass of the window trembles when she forces it open. Glancing over her shoulder and making sure that her parents haven’t stirred, she takes the now familiar route down the ladder he’s placed by her bedside window. It’s easier to climb this time, now she’s not tipsy, but she still takes it slowly, very conscious that there aren’t very many ways to explain to her parents exactly why she’s sneaking out of the house at dawn with a boy on a motorbike to seduce and prank two dumbasses. The gay porno in their bag would be interesting to explain to her mother.

He’s waiting for her in the drive, tapping his foot with what seems like impatience even though she _knows_ she’s early. He can wait for once. This is her time to shine. 

Pulling her sweater tight over her shoulders, Veronica attempts to calm her rapidly beating heart.

“You have to hide that,” She blows a piece of hair from her eyes. They’re taking her car — she _told_ him they were taking her car. Nobody is going to think Veronica Sawyer spends her time cruising on a motorcycle.

 _Do you know the death rates for those things?_ He never listened to her whenever she brought his choice of vehicle up. Veronica has turned her nose to riding with him at almost every opportunity. She isn’t going to show up to a weird sex circle on one.

“Best not keep them waiting, Darling. Kurt and Ram are ready to have the time of their short lives,” he smirks at his lame joke.

Veronica snorts. He isn’t wrong. She doesn’t expect these fools to stay alive much longer outside of high school. Their hedonistic lifestyles will eventually catch up to them.

“Hide that then so we can motor,” Veronica swings the keyring on her finger. JD rolls his eyes but compiles, twisting the key in the engine and firing it with a roar that’s loud enough to wake up the entire neighborhood. Veronica sighs but continues to her car, key poised between two fingers. She hears him speed off.

“Slow down,” She mutters, though he isn’t around to hear it. She’s seen him kick dirt into the air enough to have had a thousand heart attacks; one day he’s actually going to derail. 

Popping her car door open, Veronica thinks over their plan. It’s fairly simple, especially when you’re dealing with two idiots like Kurt and Ram. Sex craved teenagers will do anything except wear a condom. Veronica will have no problem bringing them in.

Eventually, JD returns, stumbling into the picture with a harsh curse. “Where’d you dump it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer her, but scrunches his nose in disgust, muttering somebody about _no fucking parking._

“How do I look?” She asks once he begins to near. She doesn’t need the approving “Ravishing,” that he gives in response; the way he looks at her before drawing her into a final kiss, threatening to ruin all her efforts to gussy up, is enough. 

Veronica ducks into her car, pulling the door shut so hard the vehicle trembles. She punches in the lighter, fiddling through her school bag for the pack of cigarettes she knows JD will want to smoke. She fishes the packet out the same second he ducks into her car, muttering something under his breath. She feels the car rock under them.

 _Busted_ , she thinks, and pulls the car into reverse. JD takes the cigarettes from her lap. The smell of smoke is pungent, even to somebody that smokes them. 

“You’re going to be dead by thirty if you keep smoking like that,” She says. He laughs, like his impending death is top tier humor, and begins to roll the window down, blowing the smoke somewhere besides Veronica’s face.

There’s music playing over the stereo that she doesn’t recognize, but it’s good enough for JD. He cranks the stereo louder. Veronica wishes he would talk to her. She’s starting to feel uneasy.

She speeds a little, though not purposely. She only notices after JD looks at their speedometer and clicks his tongue, laughing. The sound is warm and familiar, comforting.

It’s just the aftershocks of Heather’s death that leaves her feeling as uncomfortable as she does. JD wouldn’t hurt her. She has no reason for her heart to thud in her chest as violently as it does.

 _You’re doing something good,_ she tells herself. She doesn’t feel guilty, there’s no reason to. JD doesn’t seem to have a single worry in the world over this. It’s just what’s going to happen after that she’s nervous about. It’ll go to normal, she doesn’t doubt that this will rock them into a semblance of normality.

It’s just what happens after they step down. There are other jocks -- how many does Veronica need to seduce before the allure of teenage bitchiness wears off.

“How long do you think that’ll stop them for?” Veronica asks, partially to break the silence and the raging of her unchecked thoughts.

“Hopefully forever,” he says, surprisingly optimistically for him.

“And the next Kurt and Ram?”

“We’ll deal with them when we come to it.”

Veronica’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, but she remains silent.

After a few minutes pass, they pass onto the leading road, and she indicates to turn into the school car park, but JD grabs the wheel before she can turn, “No, we need to be closer, somewhere where the car can’t be seen,” his tone is sharp and his jaw is clenched, any levity he seems to have for this prank has been replaced by this hyperfocus.

 _Like your bike?_ Veronica bides her temper with a poker face and a shrug and takes a turning up the path beside the woods instead, driving on until he grunts his approval.

They wander over so they’re closer to the school, by the entrance to the woods. He’s examining the terrain. 

“Here,” he says finally, examining a tree, observing it from different angles meticulously, “I can hide behind here, they won’t be able to see me from their direction, and if you make sure one of them stands here...” he wanders around, drawing a circle in the mud with a stick, “I will be able to get a straight shot. Point blank.” He draws a second circle a few feet further away, “And you can aim for the asshole here. Easy for us, close enough that it looks like a suicide if the police even bother to investigate. Perfecto.”

“How do you come up with this stuff?”

“It’s easy when you’re God,” He says with a wry smile. Veronica doesn’t think he’s joking.

“Do you think it will work?,” she asks, unable to hide the slight trepidation in her voice, “I mean I know they’re stupid but this is a pretty obvious trap.”

“Don’t give them more credit than they deserve. They’re stupid. It’ll be fine,” he says, “they think through their dicks and you’re quite the distraction.” 

For a second she sees something dangerous flash in his eyes, but it’s gone before she can stumble backward, and he grabs her, pulling her towards him, for a final kiss. Her lips throb, promising her of the same soreness she felt after their first night together.

They separate, Veronica’s fingers pressed to her mouth, and JD smiles. “Just stick to the plan, okay?”

Veronica’s nod is feeble.

She tucks the gun into the waistband of her skirt, and not a moment too soon, as just then she hears the none too quiet sound of footsteps in the forest and the excited voices of Westerberg’s most stupid jocks.

They seem taken aback to even see her there before the caveman lust breaks clear on their faces.

“Hi, Veronica.”

“Hi, guys. Glad you could make it.” Her fingers curl into her palm at their smirks. JD is waiting right near them, they won’t be smiling soon.

“So do we just whip it out or…”

Veronica fights away the expression of disgust. JD may be annoying but at least he knows when to be quiet.

“Well, I’ve made a circle on each side of the clearing. Ram, come over here. Kurt,” Veronica points to his circle. “When you get to the circle, strip.”

“What about you?”

Veronica sways her body slightly, batting her eyelashes. She feels so fake. This is what Heather Chandler must have felt like. “I was kinda hoping you could rip my clothes off me, sport.”

“Oh, good idea.” 

_Like you’ve ever had one,_ Veronica fixes a sly smile on her face.

She can feel her heart racing, but now it’s less from nerves and more from excitement. This is it, this is really happening. This is what it is about, she thinks, as she sees them grin under her confident commands, taking these two idiots down a peg, making everyone think twice before they mess with her again.

Piece by piece, they strip themselves of their clothing.

“Okay, count of three guys? One…”

Kurt and Ram look between each other. Veronica’s jaw sets slightly. _Pig,_ she thinks. “Two…”

And then, “Three…” but it doesn’t come in her voice. JD side steps out from a tree, angling his gun faster than Veronica can blink. His voice is machiavellian as he doesn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

She has just enough time to see the fake bullet impact, rather more gruesomely than she expected, on Ram’s neck and she feels a swooping sensation in her stomach as she fires her own, hissing at the sting of the recoil.

She misses.

An unexplained feeling of relief washes over her.

Kurt scuttles terrified into the forest like the coward he is, and she’s pretty sure he won’t be spreading rumors like that again. Veronica smiles smugly.

“Did you miss him completely?” JD asks angrily.

“Yeah but don’t worry it was worth it just to see the look on…”

Then she glances up at JD and the smile dies on her lips.

This isn’t the look of someone upset that his prank went wrong. He looks feral, there is raw panic in his expression but also an undeniable anger, fury that causes Veronica to coil into herself.

“Don’t move, I’ll uh, I’ll get him back.” His voice is not nearly as relaxed as his words are. Veronica’s body runs cold.

Something is wrong.

Veronica remains in her spot, paralyzed.

Something is very, very wrong. She can feel it in her bones; the hair on the back of her neck rises like shackles on a dog, and her legs urge her to run. The pure horror in knowing she can’t get away is enough to nauseate her.

Ram stays where he fell, unmoving except for the blood pouring out of his neck, so much blood. Far more blood than you can lose and remain uninjured.

Resisting the urge to collapse on the floor and pretend she is still sleeping in her nice warm bed, she sums up all her courage and moves towards him, _it’ll be fine, he’ll be fine, just go over and you’ll see._

As she kneels beside him, she can see no sign of breathing and when she touches him experimentally his body is floppy and unresponsive.

“Come on, Ram, Veronica lightly shoves at his chest. She can feel her throat constricting. This is not good.

Did something happen with the bullets? Did they get the wrong ones? Is the sleeping agent just much more powerful and convincing than she thought it would be? Surely that’s it, because surely, _surely_ , she hasn’t for the second time in a week have a prison sentence hanging over her head? Surely they can’t have accidentally killed someone again?

Surely this isn’t what it looks like?

Surely JD hasn’t lied to her?

There is a crunch of hurried footsteps and the sound of heavy breathing. Kurt is back in the glade, JD is right behind him, stalking his every move, a sinister look of satisfaction on his face, as he herds the terrified boy back to her.

There’s a glint in his eye, cold, predatory, and she knows. She knows without a doubt that this is not a joke, this is not a prank. This is cold blooded, carefully planned murder.

This is revenge.

This is revenge and Heather’s death the other day was no accident.

She needs to go. She needs to go now and tell the police, while Kurt is still alive and can be saved, can account for—

Veronica swallows. He can account for her involvement. 

She can blame JD all she likes, she can swear until she’s blue that she was tricked into it all, but the reality is that it’s her writing on the suicide notes, her fingerprints all over Heather’s bedroom and her with the motive to want her classmates dead.

Everything points to her so carefully it’s as if it was planned.

Kurt is their only witness.

And JD is still holding a gun, which he has shown no hesitation in using. 

Forcing a hand over her mouth, Veronica chokes on a whine, screwing her eyes painfully shut. “Fuck,” She whimpers. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._

Leaves crinkle in the distance with the sound of scuffling and Veronica struggles to understand who she’s worrying for. It’s dumb to worry about JD when he has a gun.

The scuffling grows louder, and she has less than a moment to swallow down the lump in her throat before JD speaks.

“Now.”

It’s a command and her answer is instantaneous. The blowback stings her hands as if they’ve been struck, and the sound of the bullet rings in her ears, she tries to focus on this, on her own physical discomfort, because it’s so much less painful than the sight in front of her. The sight of a bullet that hit its target perfectly, straight in the chest.

She doesn’t know if Kurt sees his life flash before his eyes in the second before he hits the ground, but she sees his life. She sees his childhood, his family, his friends, all the people who loved him and have now lost him. She sees his future - the life he could have led, all altered, all gone, because she pulled a trigger. Maybe, if she didn’t have a conscience, this would make her feel powerful, as it does it just makes her want to throw up.

“Kurt doesn’t look too good…” Veronica croaks.

When she looks to JD, all the tension is gone from his features, as if all his worries are gone, not enormously multiplied, he looks satisfied, almost excited by it all.

“Do you still have the note?”

She passes it to him wordlessly and he reads over it again, letting out a chuckle as he tucks it in Kurt’s hand along with his gun.

And she understands. She understands with the bile rising in her throat. Kurt and Ram boasted about sleeping with his girl so they had to die on the cusp of getting what they wanted in the most humiliating way possible.

She was just dragged along for the ride.

She hears a wail of sirens in the distance and the cry of an officer. JD gnashes out a swear.

“Just remember he’s left handed.” 

Veronica’s body trembles as she arranges their crime scene, applying the same artifacts that she had laughed about the night before. JD finishes his side quickly and extends his hand to her. 

She wants to run from him, she wants to scream and cry and to have him thrown away so he can never touch her again. She wants to turn back time to Friday and have never met him at all. But that’s stupid, isn’t it? She’s the danger, too.

She’s in danger and he is her only escape.

So she grasps his outstretched hand and lets him pull her blindly through the forest. His grip is unrelenting, painfully so, and he doesn’t slow down even as she stumbles through the undergrowth, nearly tripping

She can hear the cops shouting. They’ve found the body.

The race to the car leaves her feeling nauseous. She is too petite to be jostled around this much, forced to run through jagged woods so she won’t spend life in prison. It doesn’t matter if it hurts her. It doesn’t matter how many times she nearly twists her ankle. She just has to get out of here.

The car is too cramped for both of them as he throws her arms around her, kissing her with an intensity that feels a little too powered to be just for show. He’s turned on, he’s getting off to what they just did.

Veronica’s head is swimming. He lied to her.

He lied to her. He fucking lied to her.

His hand falls to her ass, and she feels nothing but disgust. _Ich Lüge bullets._ She’s so stupid.

He doesn’t taste the same. The excitement that Veronica had gotten every time they’ve been together had been replaced by a feeling of fear. She doesn’t shove him away for the sake of avoiding arrest, but she doesn’t enjoy this. The moan he swallows when he slips a hand into her pants isn’t genuine; the way she grinds against his hand desperation to feel something besides pain. 

He takes her zealousness for desire, ignorant of the tears that are welling in her eyes, falling down her cheeks each time he serves her another kiss, pulling the flesh of her lip between his teeth and biting so hard her toes curl.

When Veronica does start to give herself to him, does kiss back with the same amount of force, it is not because she’s turned on. She can feel him pressing against her through his jeans, and even as she grinds against him and he meets her with his hips, she feels nothing but pain.

The policemen eventually disperse without even bothering to interrupt them, but that doesn’t do anything to stop his hands from feeling her body, holding her a lot closer than she currently wants to be.

When they finish, when he’s worn her body raw and she can do nothing but collapse against him, just as empty as before, they are left a panting mess. Veronica keeps her head in the crook of her neck, screwing her eyes shut and ignoring the wetness between her thighs. She feels disgusting.

“Our love is God,” He says, and Veronica begins to sob.


End file.
